


Sisterhood

by Isidar_Mithrim



Series: Featuring: Death Eaters [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Battle of Hogwarts, Black sister, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Drabble, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Flash Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Purebloods (Harry Potter), Second War with Voldemort, Short One Shot, Sisterhood, Sisters, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, What-If, but with a twist, not tcc compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isidar_Mithrim/pseuds/Isidar_Mithrim
Summary: Two sisters, two Blacks.One is dark-haired, the other is blonde, but it doesn’t matter.One is childless, the other is a mother.And that's what makes all the difference.{A two pieces collectionChapter one: ChildlessChapter two: Mother}





	1. Childless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WarchiefZeke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarchiefZeke/gifts).
  * A translation of [Non ti curar di lor...](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/500188) by Isidar Mithrim. 



> To WarchiefZeke, because he loves Bella and he has spent wonderful words for one of my work :)

_Insulted._

Her cheeks flushes with shame, incapable of pretending fake indifference before the scorn of the other Death Eaters.

In truth, though, they don’t matter to Bella.

It’s _His_ icy laugh to wound her like a scorching iron.

_Taunted._

By her own Lord, the one she’d have never wanted to fail.

**

She looks at her sister, now incapable of keeping high her gaze once so fierce.

She watches her nephew, a fearful boy who lacks of determination.

She thinks of the Metamorphmagus wedded to a filthy werewolf with no qualms, and she feels boundless rage realising the Blacks are only the pale memory – or not even that – of what they’ve been in their glorious past.

A past when no Black would have dared to contaminate his pureblood with a beast, a past when they couldn’t be forced to lower their gaze under the devious laugh of a handful of peasants.

**

Bellatrix doesn’t to point that out, but there is no need for the Dark Lord to ask her to rectify it.

She already knows what she has to do.

Twisting a lock of her long, thick, ebony hair, Bellatrix realises she should engage a bit of _cleansing_ starting from her own bloodline, now stripped of its noble prestige.

The idea of letting this hideous truth get past her becomes suddenly intolerable.

It’s time to eradicate the _impurities_.

**

_Hug her any change you get, traitor of your blood._

_Soon one of those hug will become the last, pathetic act of love you’ll be able to share with your daughter… because she won’t see the end of this war._

_And this is not a threat._

_It’s a solemn oath._

**

_It’s fear what I read in your eyes, my beloved sister, but I won’t let the fright of seeing your son failing uproot your statuary tenacity._

_I miss your haughty confidence… undermined by your husband’s mistakes._

_And an uncomfortable thought grows in my mind…_

_Will you still be able to serve your Lord?_

_No, I don’t want to question your loyalty… but I sense you don’t worship him enough._

_That you would never sacrifice everything for him._

_I try to get over this doubts, because if they are true, you’d be an obstacle to reconquering our ancient integrity of blood and thoughts._

_If they’re true, you may not see the end of this war as well…_

******

She laughs out loud, unconcerned by the clamor of the battle which rages around her.

She’s never been scared of a fight.

Yet, along with the disdain for that miserable woman, she feels a new emotions raising, twisting her stomach.

_Anguish._

Suddenly, she realises the woman’s gaze frightens her. She sees in those eyes the same sparkle she’s glimpsed in her sister’s… and in Andromeda’s.

{ _Unworthy to be called sister_ }

Another episodes crosses her mind.

Even that day she’d seen the same gaze…

{ _Agonizing screams of a woman_.

Tormented to the bone.

_Despite everything, she still withstands._

_Nothing but harrowing howls leave her lips._

_I keep inflicting her pain._

_Naively convinced she’ll eventually give up the secret we’re desperately seeking_.

Tortured into insanity.

_I wonder how she can endure it.}_

Only when she feels the flash of green light hitting her in the chest she understands what has driven those women.

The truth unfolds before her with overwhelming fierceness, and she drowns in a foreign abyss.

She dies like that, in a spiral of wonder and remorse.

_Perhaps, if I’d been a mother too…_

_Perhaps, it does exist the power of Love…_

******

_Centuries later._

A ghost wanders alone in an empty land.

_Trapped between two worlds._

Around the translucent figure, only whiteness.

It’s snow, cold as her touch.

The ghost _still_ wonders about Love…

And _still_ can’t find the answer.

Yet, it’s closer than the spirit believes.

Because, even if they’re just two infamous traitors, she trembles with grief knowing she’ll never see them again.

{ _Despite everything, worthy to be called sisters_ }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… I would’t consider this end like my actual headcanon, but I had a good time imagining it. I hope I didn’t stretched it too much ^^
> 
> Ps I’ve several huge doubts about the translation of the second part of this sentence, if you have any advise ^^  
> “She looks at her sister, now incapable of keeping high her gaze once so fierce.”  
> Plus, I’m not sure about the position of ‘still’ in “And still can’t find the answer”. I mean, I like it there, but I don’t know if it’s correct/ acceptable.
> 
> Next chaper is ‘Motherhood’, starring Narcissa, but I haven’t translate it yet, so it may take a while ;)


	2. Mother

It’s said a mother’s love for her children doesn’t fear any confront.

I can’t tell you who’s been the first to say it.

I just know it’s genuinely, unmistakably true.

It’s a truth, this one, that doesn’t need to be unveiled.

Any mother knows it, since ever.

Any mother knows she’ll be willing to do anything for them.

She knows it, period.

Will she be able of killing?

Yes, if inevitable.

Of torturing?

Whenever necessary.

Of betraying?

Without hesitation.

Of turning her back to the most feared and powerful wizard of modern times?

Of pretending his worst enemies has already exhaled his last living breath, even if his heart is beating fiercely under her hand?

Will she have the courage to walk away from her Lord, disowning everything she’s thought to fight for?

Would she be able to perform an act her beloved sister could never forgive?

I reckon you already know the answer.

**

Mine was a wild, dangerous, heartbreaking, desperate race against time.

_Wild_ , because instinct drove my actions that night.

There was no room for the slow processes of the reason.

_Dangerous,_ because war raged around us.

Losers, winners, none of that mattered anymore.

I’d lied to my Lord.

I’d never regret it.

_Heartbreaking_.

My beloved sister died before my eyes.

Only with time I figured out my feelings about it.

Back then, they were muffled by dread.

Back then I couldn’t handle them, because a feeling I couldn’t grasp lied beneath the horror.

I needed time to give it a face – _a name_.

It was _relief_ , what I’d felt that night.

My instinct knew.

It knew she would have no mercy for the person who betrayed the Dark Lord – for the maker of his defeat.

_Desperate_.

At the thought of being too late.

**

It wasn’t a solitary quest.

A hand took mine, and my husband’s gaze told me he’d made his choice as well.

War engaged them all.

We didn’t care.

Life could leave us any moment.

And yet, we didn’t fear death anymore.

Life could leave our only son, could abandon him forever.

And this was our only, authentic, horrific dread.

We weren’t too late.

Our instinct drove us, infallible.

**

It’s said a mother’s instinct doesn’t fear any confront.

I can’t tell you who’s been the first to say it, but holding Draco in my arms I know it’s genuinely, unmistakably true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the collection :D  
> Feel free to drop any feedback, suggestion, correction about the story or the translation, opinion about headcanons and so on ^^  
> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://isidar-mithrim.tumblr.com)


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